Rise
by Lystric
Summary: Two blood elven sisters join Hellscream's court, where they plan to turn his Horde against him starting from the inside. Politics, manipulation, and treason are used rather than swords, bows, and hammers in order to dethrone the tyrant orc before he finishes his descent into madness. Rewrite of a rewrite of a rewrite. Rated M for language and future themes. Based around Mists.
1. Treason

**A/N: This is a rewrite of Bowing to Fate, which was a rewrite of my first ever fanfiction, Where Heroes Once Stood. It's focused purely in Orgrimmar and Stormwind, as I found that my one of my biggest writing weaknesses is writing travelling scenes. Each chapter is a different point of view, but the main two of are the Sunfeather sisters. The other ones will come later into the story. **

**This is the first 'book' of a planned trilogy.**

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><p>"Please remind me why I'm here again."<p>

The owner of the exerted voice was drenched in sweat and dyed an unnatural shade of red due to an unsuspected dust storm. Her blonde hair, tucked behind long ears, was an oily and tangled mess, filled with dead leaves and other debris. A battle-marred face was swollen with exertion, pierced nostrils flaring after a nearly never ending journey to her current location.

Overall, the veteran warrior felt like hell itself.

Slumped down in her sister's worn chair halfway across the world from her own home, Fainestra Sunfeather was the epitome of an exhausted adventurer. Her elven ears were sagged and her green eyes dimmed, clear signs of a very fatigued blood elf.

A short laugh sounded from somewhere further inside the petite house, contrasting with her current foul state.

"Faine," a little freckled elf called on her way into the living quarters, a tray of food in hand, "I made the same journey you did and caused half the scene." Her tone was laced with merriment and laughter, glad to once again be in the company of the older woman. "And for the love of gods, half the smell!"

She placed the food onto a low table and swatted the air in front of her nose playfully.

"Corriana," Faine gave her younger sister warning glance as she precariously stretched out her shaking legs. Although the scent of food triggered a rumble from her intestines and a sharp ache from her stomach, it was clearly expected that she had to bathe before being able to eat.

"Help me up," the woman grunted as she stretched out her arms towards her sister.

The smaller elf obliged and sprung forward happily, yanking Faine out of the chair and nearly dislocating her shoulders in the process. The older sister only wished she had half the energy Corriana emitted, and it nipped her that this vigour came after the fledgling huntress had spent the entire day practicing with a bow out in the same desert she had just traveled through.

After Faine was helped out of her seat and steadied, her younger kin encased her distended wrist in a tight hold and dragged her towards a copper tub in the corner of the room.

Subsequently leaving her there to fetch soap and water, the elf returned a short time later with her bucket and supplies. She was given a disapproving glare from the older woman, who had barely been able to keep herself upright on her travel-weary feet.

"Sorry," Corriana huffed as she dumped the bucket of water into the tub. She then took little care in peeling Faine out of her unrepairable leather armour and into the bucketful of water.

"Really?" Faine muttered, giving her sister a look that sent the other elf away with the bucket faster than a frightened rabbit.

When the tub was half filled, Corriana bathed her tired sister until she was once again clean. "You never answered my question," Faine murmured, leaning forward so the huntress could wash her burnt back.

"Which one?" The other elf replied, eyebrows knit in thought.

"I asked you why I was here," she said with a wince. The hot water felt like acid on her tender skin. The freckled blood elf muttered a _hmm_ as if she should have known.

"I already told you, dimwit," she finally answered, much to the dismay of Faine.

"No, you never said anything to me about why I needed to be here. All you said is that it was urgent."

"Yeah, as a matter of fact, it is."

"Will you spit it out already? I didn't come all this way for nothing." At that, the warrior had turned around to burn a look into the huntress's face. Her lips were set in a thin, displeased line and her eyes were narrowed.

"I'll tell you tomorrow," Corriana puffed, wiping the soapy cloth over her sister's face without warning.

"You are unbelievable," Faine groaned, shutting her burning eyes.

Slender fingers combed snares and debris out of the mass of damp, pale blonde hair they were currently entwined in. Corriana busied herself by humming a cheerful tune as she indelicately ripped a twig out of the strands of hair knotted around it.

"Hey!" Faine hissed, her own hand instinctively flying up to her scalp to hit the other pair of hands away. She turned her body around to glare at the woman causing more harm than good.

"Do you possess even a grain of elegance somewhere in that body of yours?"

The elf in question smiled innocently. "I have better things to do tonight than to sit here pulling a forest out of your hair. You're a warrior, Faine. Bow to fate." She motioned with her fingers for her sister to turn back around. The warrior complied, crossing her arms with a loud huff.

"How does one manage to get leaves and twigs caught in their hair in _Durotar_?" The elf muttered. Faine rolled her eyes.

"Have you already forgotten that I came here from Stranglethorn Vale?" she grumbled, wincing as another twig was pulled from her hair with force.

"The Vale? Who sent you there?" The blood elf questioned, raising an eyebrow as she unwrapped a strand of hair from a thistle. "Even if you were there, that doesn't give you the excuse to not bathe for weeks."

The elder sister gave her another one of her looks.

"A lunatic. He payed me a gold coin a day to stand around his betrothed, protecting her as she danced on tables at his tavern. The woman wanted nothing to do with him, and she was quite vocal about it. I stayed for a year, only because I felt bad for her. Political marriages are known to be violent."

The huntress shrugged indifferently. "Their business, not yours."

Faine grabbed her sister's wrist, halting her. She turned around once more to face her.

"Corriana, _why have you called me here?_" Her voice dropped to a whisper, wary of any unseen ears listening. "If it's about that miserable sack of bones on the throne, I want nothing to do with it."

The huntress grinned slowly.

"A miserable sack of bones? Yes. But just think about all the doors that would open if we could somehow infiltrate his court." The chair scraped against the rough panels with a shrill cry as her sister stumbled to her feet before turning to face her.

"Have you gone delusional in my absence?" Faine was lost for words. Whatever the other elf had been planning would fail before she could say 'dead'. Their heads would be displayed on the stakes above the city for treason, undoubtedly.

"Dearest sister," the huntress drawled sarcastically, "I know without uncertainty that Hellscream is not intelligent enough to see two blood elven women as potential threats to his life. I am no longer a child; I am fully aware of the dangers and the likely fatal outcome if anything were to go south."

"And you are willing to put not just your life, but mine as well, on the line? For what? What kind of master plan could you possibly have that will not end with a public hanging?"

The elf picked her nails and rolled her eyes.

"How about dethroning a tyrant? The idiot will get everyone in this city killed if he continues to play this unwinnable game of chess between us and the Eastern Kingdoms. Their alpha wolf is ruthless, not to mention unprompted. I don't know about you, but I don't want to wake up one morning to find a call to war nailed to my front door, because I am just one of the other thousand disposable pawns in this city."

The warrior brought her palm to her face.

"You would _never _be on a conscription list, Corri. Your name cannot be added to it unless you have a veteran hunter bear witness to your skills, or in worst case, a dire situation arises and there is a call to arms. You are no where near close to being a pawn."

The freckled elf frowned, shifting her weight.

"That may be true, but one day I won't have the abilities I have now. It's not long before I start advancing through my training, Faine. I'm doing good." She narrowed her eyes at her sister, fully catching the belittling comment. "Besides, Garrosh doesn't seem like the type to discriminate against ability. The more soldiers he has, the more compelling he appears to outside forces."

Faine exhaled sharply.

"This plan of yours... what are you thinking?" The sooner she knew what her sister was risking her life, and her own for, the better her chances of throwing her off of the high horse she sat on.

The novice huntress had softened her gaze and smiled. "It's simple. We apply as advisers to the warchief and bring him out of power."

"And how do you suppose two sisters, blood elven at that, can achieve that?"

"First, we turn his people against him. Then, we get close with the enemy and get them on our side."

The elder sister sighed, shaking her throbbing head. "Your plan is treason atop of treason? I don't think they can cut our heads off more than once."

"It won't be that hard. Not everyone in this city are loyalists. In fact, the large majority aren't happy with what he's doing. He boldly decimated Thermore, creating an even stronger tension between the Horde and the Alliance. It's almost like he's asking for it. It really won't be that hard. Sunfeathers are masters of manipulation and politics' it's in our blood."

She gave no reaction to her sibling, so the huntress snorted softly and continued.

"Think about it. If he ever went down, he'd make sure he pulled the Horde with him to the pits of hell. His mind has foolishly been corrupted by his pride. At this point, he's a fuse waiting to find a flame. I'm willing to be that fire, Faine, whether it kills me or I live to see a revolution."


	2. Confrontation

**A/N: Here's chapter 2! Technically, chapter 1 is more like a prologue but I hate how FF orders them in the chapter drop-down menu so we'll go with this.**

**This is Corri's POV. They will change every chapter to get both sides of the story, but they will be in the same timeline (if that makes sense).**

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><p>Corriana could not see why her sister was being so stubborn. Sure, Faine had always been the hard and serious warrior type, but if she knew her well enough, she was easily swayed by words and subtle promises. It appeared something had changed in the jungle, for this time, she had said no. She couldn't even explain herself completely before she was given a flat out 'no' and an icy glare, and that was that.<p>

She was sprawled out in her favourite padded chair, dancing her bare feet idly on the rough floorboards as she glared at her sleeping sister. Nothing was making sense. The self-confident woman was quick to jump into battle, especially if there was reason behind it. Dethroning a dictator seemed like a solid and just motive, in fact, it held more motive than some leaders had given in past wars. Her rising annoyance hindered the chill wrapping around her toes as she let out a long breath.

Garrosh Hellscream was an artist when it came to influence. He could readily paint a picture for whoever listened, whether it was of realism or surrealism. His canvas of choice was carcasses and his medium was fresh blood for paint, no matter if it came from a child, civilian, or a soldier. The orc was slowly descending into madness, and Corriana was not the first to notice it.

Living quite literally between the trollish and tauren tribes of Orgrimmar left the huntress with a wide range of voices and opinions. Neither race were quiet about their beliefs, but were wary of who they spoke to regarding their views on the Warchief. A sentence for treason hung above every citizen of the city, and not everyone was willing to risk their lives to be defiant.

The young blood elf studied under both a troll and a tauren, preferring the gentle naturalistic approach to being a huntress provided by Nohi Plainswalker, the companionless tauren in the Valley of Wisdom, but could not deny learning survival techniques from Huntress Kuzari, a redheaded troll with a tongue sharper than her spear.

Although both trainers taught her differently, they both agreed to mentor the blood elf together. Nohi would teach her how to become one with the wilderness and the difficult task of taming a beast, while Kuzari showed her how to use a bow as if it was an extension of her own arm.

The three would either spend a full day together, or would take turns teaching Corriana separately. The tauren preferred to take the elf into the dense forests of the neighbouring Ashenvale to familiarize her with nature, which she yearned for after being raised in the beautiful woods of Eversong for over a century.

Meanwhile, the troll huntress was adamant that she should hone in on her skills in her current desert environment, in order to adapt and survive in the harsh climate, but she eventually agreed that wooded surroundings was also an integral location to be acquainted with.

Even though the two hunters had very different views regarding the blood elf's training, they both readily agreed that Hellscream's reign was hurting both the general establishment of the Horde, and the civilians in it.

_"Why Thrall didn't appoint Vol'jin as da new Warchief, I will neva know,"_ Kuzari spat one day as she helped raise Corriana's arm into the proper position, parallel to the stuffed target. _"Hellscream's got a leetle head but he ain't got no leetle pride." The red sand below their feet seemed to move as a single being as the winds lapped at the females' faces and stirred coloured dust into the air._

_"I assume you're not a big fan?" The elf muttered, releasing the string from between her fingers and watched as the arrow hit the outer ring of the target with a satisfying thump._

_"Aye, ain't got me a single grain o' respect fo' dat man baby an' his doin's," the trollish huntress said with a nod. Nohi, less vocal about his emotion, gave a similar nod as he tried wiping sand out of his eye with a furred hand. "Be careful of what you say and who you say it to, Kuzari. Not everyone in this city is on the same page as us."_

The blood elf snapped back to her place, finally taking her vacant stare off of her sleeping sister and onto her spare wooden walls. A hazy purple outline of Faine's form lingered on her eyes, and she blinked several times until it faded and her vision was clear.

Why was Faine suddenly keeping away from an opportunity for greatness? She was in agreement to everything she had said, but refused to act. The huntress never would have guessed that her sister would be weary to make a name for herself. She already had a reputation for being quick to judge and impossible to please, with an above average ego to boot, but being someone to turn down a fight was unheard of, especially for the younger elf. Half of the elf's scars came from duels she knew she couldn't win but couldn't decline. What could possibly stop her from adding a few more to the collection?

The scarred elf was hiding something, something that scared her enough to keep her at bay with her tail between her legs. This was a side of her the huntress had never seen before, and in truth, it almost worried her. She was beginning to think she was in over her head if even her blood-frenzied sister wanted no part in her plans. The huntress shook her head slowly, steeling herself. She knew what she wanted was the right thing; not only was it right for her, but it was what every innocent soul in the Horde deserved.

She had spent such a large portion of her spare time devising the idea to get Hellscream out of power, and her sister's fear would not sway her. The youngest Sunfeather sibling appeared fragile and easy to walk over, which was rather convenient considering she needed a cover that would allow fools to trust her wholeheartedly. A freckled elf was nearly unheard of. A quick bat of her eyelashes and she was usually able to get what she wanted.

She would also need to make a name for herself, she decided, as all good politicians must in order to climb the social ladder. She would need a lot of connections, not just in Orgrimmar, if she wanted to secure a position in Hellscream's court and keep suspicions off of herself.

The quicker she could rise to Garrosh, the smaller the chances of the conceited warchief once again launching an attack on the Alliance and dragging the Horde into war.

The blood elf racked her brain for names and faces, hastily deciding who would be the best choices for getting what she wanted. She knew all sorts of people from every corner of Azeroth, all with their own plans and wants, and she was sure she could very simply bribe most of them into helping her.

None of them she could trust, but they were enough to help her seem like someone _Hellscream_ should trust. She bristled at her thoughts for a moment, aware that the orc leader's pawns were about to become her own. She was going to have to play on his side of the board before she could switch.

It was all for good due, she decided. At least that was what she would tell herself, since she needed to sleep at night.

Corriana stayed where she was until her sister began to stir. She spoke when she knew Faine was conscious enough to listen.

"What's stopping you from doing this?"

The warrior rolled over on the floor so she could face her kin. "It's suicidal, not to mention completely irrational."

"No it's not," the huntress stated, shifting so that her legs were under her on the chair. Her patience was growing thin. "I had a year to think this through. Every possible outcome has a solution. If you want to run back to the Vale, you can, but I'm doing what needs to be done."

"Corri-"

"No, don't start with me. I don't want to live through another insignificant war. I don't want to see millions die if I have even the slightest chance to act on it. We all die, and if I do because of what I'm planning to do, at least I can rot peacefully knowing I tried."

She watched Faine roll onto her back once again to stare up at the low ceiling.

"The King of Stormwind has the same plans you do. There's no need for you to risk your life."

Corriana laughed, the sound dark and low, although she had perked her brow in curiosity. "And I'm supposed to let him live with the honour of killing the orc? He's going to have to beat me to him, because this is officially a race."

There was no stopping her now. Whatever doubts she had were gone as she plotted ways to get into Garrosh's circle before the wolf could land his ships on Durotar's shores.

Her sister sighed heavily.

"What's he planning, anyways? You seem like you know what his plan of attack is," the huntress muttered.

Faine closed her eyes as she hummed in agreement. "That I do," she said, not caring to elaborate further.

Corriana stood up suddenly, stretching her numb legs.

"What are you doing?" Faine asked wearily. She knew the look of determination on her sister's face well.

"Are you on my side or not? If I know that you want no part in this, you need to leave, now. I won't risk your safety if you wish to remain innocent. All I know is that whatever that wolf is planning needs to be outdone. He's not as subtle as I am about his arrangements, which gives me the advantage." She was across the room, pulling her heavy limbs into her leather armour.

"Whatever Wrynn has in store, no matter how plain, still gives him the advantage of having a disposable army at hand. All _you_ have is me."

"Perfect, I'll take that as a _'yes, Corri, I'll obviously follow you to your grave'._ Get ready then, and make sure to look dignified and for the love of gods, get your unruly hair in control before we leave," the huntress muttered, strapping her quiver over her shoulder. Faine slowly pulled herself to her feet with a few winces and harsh words.

"Two armed woman looking to snag a place in his court will not come off friendly," the warrior murmured, opting for a similar set of leather rather than her heavy plate. Still, the elder elf clipped her shield to her back and her sword to her hip. Corriana watched her sister try to coax her hair into a ponytail before she spoke up.

"I'm ready."

Leading her out of the little house, Corriana guided the other elf down the dusty trail at a leisure pace. It was just past sunrise on a rather humid day, which meant most others were less than willing to be out at such a time. In turn, the streets were void of people and merchants, leaving just the blonde sisters to walk peacefully.

The huntress led them up a stiff incline, where the roofs of huts could be seen over the top of the red hill. Each had a different bright colour crudely painted on, with many charms and decorations hanging from beams and stairs from twine. The elf's mood immediately boosted as she took the familiar sight in. The Valley of Spirits was her favourite district, as it was always filled with the friendly faces of trolls, festive music, and unrestrained decor.

"It's a shame trolls are rarely up at this hour," the blood elf murmured to her sister as they past through the silenced rows of huts. She knew her sister had never been to this part of the city before, especially after the reconstruction, and she watched her with a sideways eye. Faine appeared to be critical about the trollish architecture, as was expected of a woman who fancied her own sin'dorei style.

The sisters met eyes, and the warrior shook her head. "It reminds me of the Vale, is all."

Slowly as they continued walking, the smell of oil and machinery filled the huntress's nostrils and she grimaced.

"Since the goblins were let into the Horde, they took up camp further up this road and completely corrupted every," Corriana explained with a sour tone. "Even the once pristine ponds are filled with their scraps and contamination."

They had paused to observe the distant scene of machines as the drilled and buzzed, before the huntress once again picked up her feet and turned to the left.

A large staircase materialized into view, and the sisters spent a few minutes walking down the wooden steps before coming into contact with the sandy floor once again. The Hold was adjacent to them a far ways off, the looming structure standing in the centre of the Valley of Strength like a manifestation of intimidation.

The blood elves walked forward, keeping up their slow pace. "Be careful of what you say, and how you act. The grunts, and particularly Hellscream, can sniff out a liar in an instant. If he even suspects that we are disloyal or planning something, we'll be thrown in jail without a reason given to us besides a notion," the huntress warned.

The shacks surrounding the building were now a few feet away from their location, and they skirted around towards the front of the structure.

The towering grunts at the entrance eyed them skeptically, taking an almost mirrored step forward as soon as the women were couple of feet in front of them.

"State you business," the larger one barked, his beard nearly bristling with his scowl. His green skin was a shade lighter than his companion, but his hair was a dark brown compared to the whitened dreads of the other.

"We're here to speak to the Warchief about the job listing on the west bulletin board in the Valley of Wisdom, concerning the position of an adviser," Corriana spoke evenly, absently noting the tightened grips of the orcs' axes as she addressed their leader.

Each looked at each other, sharing a gaze she assumed they could both read, before the older man nodded to them. "Very well. Come with me."

Remaining at his post, the other orc glared the women down as they passed and almost delicately motioning his eyes to his ready axe as Corriana stared back at him.

The walls of the Hold were lined with orcish guards who all looked as if they could crush the elven women in half with their bare hands. They seemed to grow bigger in size and muscle as they passed by each one. Harsh eyes followed them down the wooden hallway as the man, and a woman who joined him as soon as they were let in through the first set of doors, escorted them to another giant pair of wooden doors. They were carved with what Corriana knew to be orchish legends of battles, each scene in its own panel.

"Leave all weapons here," the woman grunted, her green hand pointing to a wooden crate filled with various arms. The blood elf felt her sister shift next to her and braced herself for the verbal outcry.

"Will we be getting them back, or will my sword 'mysteriously' disappear and end up across the continent in some grunt's clumsy hands?" The orchish woman looked as if she was a second away from strangling Faine, possibly after she knocked her in the head.

"Mind your tongue or your prediction may soon come true."

The warrior shouldered past her, as best as a five foot four blood elf could when the orc in question was a six foot three wall of green muscle and mail regalia. She watched as she threw her sword and shield into the crate in an undignified matter, turning back around to once more lock eyes with the purple haired woman.

"Satisfied?" Faine drawled, motioning for her sister to do the same with her bow, daggers, and quiver.

"Very," Purple muttered, shoving both elves aside to bang on the door. The older man behind them shook his head, the movement barely visible, as if to warn them to listen to the woman.

A moment later, the decorated doors opened with creaking hinges, and the woman strode in. The other guard, who remained silent, grabbed each sister by the shoulder and pushed them inside. Corriana kept note of his gentleness and his earlier warning, and wondered if he truly even wanted to be apart of Hellscream's guard. Her mind whirled and memorized his face in case she needed his help in the future.

"Warchief, these elves wish to speak with you," Purple shouted. The huntress looked past the woman and into the Hold for the first time in her life.

The monolithic central room had wooden and stone walls that appeared to end somewhere near the heavens, draped with banners of the Horde and crude maps of Azeroth. Shields and weapons hung in enclaves that were flanked with more of the familiar orcs in mail regalia. To her surprise, a few blood elves were to her far right, curiously peeking over towards the commotion. Directly in front of her, at the back of the room, stood the throne, a piece of furniture large enough to comfortably fit a family of seven elves. Another red banner adorned the back, the edges ragged and blackened.

In the centre of the room, on a rug made of dozens of wolf pelts, stood a solid ink-stained wooden table, strewn with more maps, various notes, envelops, quills and brass cups, apparently filled with the wine from the empty bottle on the ground. The seated figures had all turned towards the door, staring at Corriana and her sister with a mixed range of emotions. Each was a different race, and the huntress worriedly realized she and her sister had just barged in on the exact meeting she was hoping to have.

Finally, situated at the head of the table, sat the goliath himself. Garrosh Hellscream was as big as all the tomes said he was, and even more grotesque than the crude sketches gracing the torn pages. He was shirtless, as if he assumed his massive ego could save his eternal organs from whatever targeted him, but felt the need to protect his shoulders with the skulls of some sort of large animals. His small, brown head was facing her in particular, his golden septum ring moving as he gave the freckled elf an ugly snarl.

"And who exactly are the elves that find themselves so important that they feel the need to interrupt my negotiations?" His voice boomed and echoed across the room, the sound ricocheting off the walls an assaulting her sensitive ears.

She once again felt Faine shift on her left, watching her face wear a frown in her peripherals. For whatever reason, the orc had tried to act as if a job interview was instead some sort of important meeting between him and his most trusted warriors. The thought annoyed her and she caught herself before she could roll her eyes.

"My name is Corriana Sunfeather, and this is my-" she was cut off by an odd hiss of air and a slam as Hellscream buried Gorehowl's blade into the table. The people at the table gave a collective flinch as they were showered with splinters and fluttering pages, all heads whipping back to face the orc.

"I don't give a fuck about who you two fairies are," he cried, getting to his feet. "_Why are you interrupting my negotiations?_" He repeated with unnecessary enunciation, bulging arms braced on the table.

"You ask who exactly we were, since we apparently come off as important dignitaries. Did you not want an answer?" Faine bit back, taking a step forward. Corriana panicked, fearing that her sister was going to get herself killed as she watched.

"I would watch that tongue of yours, elf, unless you wish for it to be cut out," the orcish leader spat, his threat eerily similar to the one Purple had given them. His eyes travelled from the warrior's heated glare to the huntress's wary gaze, then back.

"State your business before I gut you both and paint the walls of this city with your tainted blood," he finally spoke before readjusting himself back onto his seat. Faine finally dropped her eyes from the orc's to look at her sister.

Corriana had learned from living with orcs that the best way to go about things was to be blunt. "We wish to join your court as advisers," she said, holding his gaze.

It was silent for a few moments before the Warchief erupted into a fit hearty laughter. She noted Faine's eyeroll and sigh, preceded by the twitch of her fingers as if she was about to grip the sword that ordinarily hung by her hip.

"What's so funny, big man?" Her sister retorted, cocking her head to the side as she crossed her arms. It was enough to stop Hellscream's howling laughter.

"That will be the last time your dare disrespect your leader," he shouted, bringing his fists down onto the table.

This was not good. The huntress inwardly groaned, and she knew it was her fault for bringing her big-mouthed sister with her. As much as she needed Faine's help, the other elf was one to use her anger instead of her brains when it came to such situations.

"Please disregard my sister, she was trained as a warrior, not a scholar," Corriana butted in. Hellscream's jaw twitched but he remained silent. "What I said stands true. We come from a notable family of sin'dorei, of which have many connections. I feel as if we work together, we will be able to bring the true glory of the Horde back to the Alliance's attention."

She had somewhat skewered her words. Their family was somewhat known throughout Silvermoon City, but they were no nobles. She figured what Garrosh didn't know wouldn't hurt.

"What sort of 'connections' do you speak of?" He asked, his tone questioning. He had pulled his hands closer to himself, piling one atop of the other as he drummed his fingers on the table, surprisingly loudly.

Faine took another step forward before Corriana could grab her. The elf continued to walk, looking at each patron that sat around the table as she skimmed her fingers over the back of each chair.

"I can't help but notice that you have someone of every race sitting at your table, besides a blood elf. I think you know that you don't truly care about the background of our connections, so long as you have _someone_ from Silvermoon readily available to your court." She stopped behind the chair that was directly across the table from the Warchief, absentmindedly picking up an orange braid from the troll that sat in it. "That just so happens to be us."

The huntress didn't dare move, and barely dared to breathe as the entire room descended into silence. Her eyes darted from the orc's to the back of her sister's head as she held her breath.

"That may have been the wisest thing that has come out of that big mouth of yours since you stepped foot into my Hold," the orc leader barked, an ugly grin spreading across his face. She heard her sister laugh, but didn't look as she realized what had just happened.

In a surprising ending, one that so far had not lead to their deaths, Faine had managed to cross the first step off of their list.

She finally inhaled sharply, before exhaling in surprise as Garrosh laughed along with her sister, the sinister sound sending chills into the very marrow of her bones.


	3. Pengion

**Wow, this is exceptionally late. I never really plan out a full story, I just have a gist of what I want to happen, and sort of just go with it. In reality, that usually fucks me over for ideas. So yeah, here's chapter two. Short, but it sets the tone for the next few chapters and introduces three very important figures.**

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><p>With her sister on her right and the colossal orc directly in front of her, Faine felt moderately at ease. Throughout the impromptu meeting with the Warchief, she sat in the chair the troll had recently vacated, with her leather-covered legs on the great table, overlapped at the ankles.<p>

She fidgeted as she waiting for a response, having been fiddling with the tattered ends of her leather sleeves for the past five minutes. She grew infuriated as she waited for Hellscream to say something.

"You know," she spoke up then, without looking, "I presumed you were a busy man, being the warchief and all. I did not take you as one who danced on a trivial decision for so long." The impatience she had that was well-known across the Great Sea had made it to Kalimdor as safely as she had.

A moment passed, bursting with the thunderous silence the three had remained sitting in for the past fifteen minutes. She made a move then, removing her feet from their place on the counter, ready to leave.

"As wise as it would be to have blood elven emissaries," Hellscream said finally after a quite excessive sigh, "something about you two and your unforeseen arrival in my Hold has imbedded a seed of hesitation in my mind." His beady eyes sprang from sister to sister, turning full circle to stare at Faine expectedly. "Is there anything you two would like to say?" The orc cocked his head to the side, the warrior grimaced. Both sets of eyes were locked on one another's across the masses of paper and scrolls.

"Yeah, in fact, I do. Since you – for whatever reason – appear to believe we have an ulterior purpose for wanting to spend the rest of our lives sitting in chairs, heeding to squabbling half-wits, besides for the benefit of the Horde, please inform us so that we can leave. We have wasted enough time here as it is."

Receiving nothing but a wave of a hand and fractional effort as their indication to leave, the sisters were ushered back down the hallway by Purple. Brushing the orc woman off once more, Faine and Corriana did not loiter as they collected their weapons and went off on their way.

"I didn't know you were so… patriotic!" The petite huntress exclaimed with mock enthusiasm the second their feet were out of the Hold, a hand over her heart. The other blood elf shoved her forward and whacked her in the head with her palm in swift succession.

"Watch how and where you choose to speak like that before you end up fucking us both over."

Opting for a quick drink instead of going straight back to Corriana's shack, the sisters walked to the nearest tavern and ordered the cheapest round they could get. The city's supreme drunk, Gamon, sat across from them at the bar.

"Garrosh's way over his little head," he mumbled to no one in particular. The huntress brushed him off with a scoff. However, her sister was a little more than just captivated by his words.

"And why would you say that?" She pressed him, giving a short-lived glance to the blood elf sipping her dry ale by her side.

"The fucker's driving us into a hole. None of us are safe." He had abandoned his tankard to watch Faine with a intense eye.

"Talking like that is tremendously dangerous," she warned him under her breath. Hellscream had eyes all about the city. One specific orc near the back of the miniscule tavern seemed decidedly attracted to the two's exchange.

Gamon answered with a peal of boisterous laughter, tears nearly pricking his eyes. The abrupt halt managed to shock the blood elf, nearly as much as his next words.

"I know what you two are doing. Garrosh has eyes, but Gamon's got ears. Let me in on your coup, and I'll provide you with reinforcements of both kinds."

Faine glowered, eyes tightening in distrust. "We aren't heading a revolution. My sister barely knows how to shoot an arrow while my feet hit Durotar's shores less than a day ago. What makes you think we care about anything Hellscream is doing?"

The tauren man smiled, shaking his head. "Only somebody unhappy with the Warchief would refer to him by his surname. We're on the same side here, elf."

Flinging a few silver onto the splintered counter and dragging her sister away from her drink, the warrior began to leave. Before she withdrew from the tavern, she turned back once more.

"There are never just two sides," she said loud enough for Gamon to hear. He merely shrugged in indifference.

"Better to be on the winning side than the losing one," he called back, turning to face his drink again.

* * *

><p>"If a washed-out drunk knows what we are organizing, there is undeniably no way Hellscream doesn't!" The bristling elf argued back. The sisters had quarreled all the way back to Corriana's home, then some more afterwards. The youngest Sunfeather sibling, constantly one for optimism, neglected to see the thinly-veiled warning issued by the current Warchief just hours earlier.<p>

"We're going to have to contact Pengion," she muttered after having not received a response.

"What?" Her sister choked out in astonishment. "No, you have to be kidding me right now. It's bad enough that we're asking for a death wish, but to drag him into this-"

Grim-faced, Faine shook her head. "Pengion is the present head of our House. He is going to need to know about this sooner or later… preferably now."

The warrior observed the huntress drop into a seat, head in her hands. "When he finds out about this, he will make sure to kill us himself before Garrosh could even say 'execution'."

Although her sister never moved, nor lifted her head for that matter, Faine continued to watch her. The restrained rattling in her chest as she took unsteady breaths and the indistinct droop of her ears suggested the obvious: she was afraid.

The new development managed to surprise the elf, as it was her sister's idea to drag them to their deaths. Why, or what, was she so frightened of now?

The answer was simple… Pengion.

The eldest Sunfeather child carried the family's steel-tongued curse blatantly, perhaps more prominently than even his female counterpart. With a bladed ego to match, Pengion proved himself worthy of being the head of House Sunfeather, one of Silvermoon City's deadliest families. His hunger for battle was notorious, and coupled with his cunning use of words, was enough encouragement to bring the reluctant sin'dorei to redundant battle, several times. Dubbed 'Pengion the Bloodied,' he was nevertheless one of Lor'themar Theron's most reliable advisors, specifically when it came to combat and war.

Even so, most would say he was in fact an tolerable leader and merited his place. His prime adversary persisted to be his sister. The middle child always fell second to her brother's limelight, regardless of their perceptible similarities in intelligence and strength. Had she been born male, the contest to the top would have been close. Instead, their father hadn't even considered permitting the female warrior take the head of his house, hell, she wasn't even cited in his will.

As long as he abstained from having any legitimate children of his own, the position he held would fall to Faine in the event of his passing, ousting, or ill health. She anticipated that day with vigor, eager to take control of their deteriorating and no longer honourable House, and to return it to its original political glory.

Looking back to her sister, who was now sprawled onto the minute couch in an unbroken nap, it was clear why she was so terrified of her own brother. He was ruthless, unsympathetic, and calculating. Corriana was not wrong when she said he would assuredly kill them for their treasonous antics across the Great Sea. As soon as he would catch word of their plans, he would be issuing soldiers to either slaughter them, or retrieve them so that he could kill them himself.

Faine, on the other hand, was less apprehensive about her far-away brother and more with what lay ahead of them in Orgrimmar. Her mind itched her to return to the Hold and finally secure her place in Hellscream's court.

It was true for him to be mistrustful of the sisters, but she remained truly astounded that he had not given them a forward answer after the hour-long staring contest they held earlier in the day. Most ambassadors were given their place instantaneously to guarantee negotiations with their own race could be made as soon as possible, which was why the elf was more than a little annoyed with the ambiguous dismissal they received.

Blood elves made up one of the lowest percentages of the Horde, and an even slighter quantity in Orgrimmar. It was politically vital for Hellscream to have at least one elven adviser at all times, particularly if he wanted Silvermoon under his iron fist.

Deep down, the warrior desired that his networks to her home were to be as restricted as possible, but she and her sister were regrettably one of the only ties the orc would have to Silvermoon, and thus being their lone shot at infiltrating his court.

As guilt-ridden as she felt for possibly being the source of her city's annihilation and enslavement, the plausible sacrifice would be essential to take down the Warchief.

Contemplating her current decisions, Faine took one last look at her slumbering sister before standing to her feet. Her selections were limited, but her alone time was even less accessible.

Soundlessly creeping to the chaotic bureau that lay in the corner of the hut, she snatched a piece of parchment and ink.

_Dearest Pengion,_ she started. _We have some news that you are not going to enjoy hearing._


	4. Reunion

**Chapter 3**

The sun shone radiantly overhead while great waves lapped every so tenderly against the blanched wood of the vessel. The abrupt and sharp scent of salt was a slight indicator of the splash of water that would soon follow. Deckhands milled around, most sun-kissed and shirtless, their brawny forms hauling precious cargo out of the range of the frothy water. The female captain rang out commands in her jarring voice, her short hair cut in an irregular fashion that left each strand pointing in a diverse range of directions. The scuffed floorboards groaned with even minimal weight, forewarning observant ears of incoming company. All in all, the scene was picturesque.

"Is it just as you remembered it?" Faine asked then, wiping her clammy brow with the back of her hand. The younger sister was forced to turn her exhausted eyes away from their previous scrutiny across the restricted scenery to look at her kin.

"There's not much to reminisce. Endless sea, endless sky, endless boredom."

The sisters had decided it was best to both make a rapid voyage to their birthplace to secure a few connections before beginning their jobs as Hellscream's glorified secretaries. That was at least what they told the orc. Truthfully, neither of them had any desire to make the lengthy journey back to Eversong Woods, particularly after their brother had all but forced them to.

"I can't believe you told him where I was," Corriana muttered. Pengion had specifically demanded the company of both sisters after deducing 'we' meant 'Faine and Corriana' from the surprise letter he received. "And I can't believe you wrote to him in the first place."

The huntress was beyond dismayed over being dragged into a situation she could not escape. She felt as if she were a detained animal, frantic to run with her tail between her legs. Not to mention, she was literally dragged onto the sin'dorei ship. She went with whatever fight she had left, kicking and screaming the entire trip to the eastern docks. She was sure her boots left permanent trails in Durotar's orange ground.

"I was not about to leave you there, alone, with Hellscream. I was also not about to face brother dearest by myself, as much as I would have loved to scream him into the very floor he dares stand on so haughtily." Corriana watch the warrior's disheveled hair flop rather lifelessly through the air as she turned around to support herself on the ship's railing. This was just one of the countless times she had to listen to her sister rant about their brother.

"If you're so upset with the way he does things, why don't you just duel him for leadership of our House?" She asked as if it was the most obvious question in the world. The look she got back nearly frightened her out of her wits.

"Are you mad?" Faine hissed through clenched teeth. "Even if I stood a single chance against him and won, I would never be given what I rightfully deserve. If I lost, I would not be able to live a second with the humiliation. I'd much rather have him decapitate me there and then, but he would not be so kind to give me that sympathy. He would make sure I lived, knowing how outright stupid I would be for even daring to speak out against him."

The other sister merely shrugged. "Just because you're a woman doesn't mean you can't beat him. Many people win duels like that. Mom won her House from her dad by way of duel. You _are_ her daughter, are you not?"

The warrior exhaled, noisily. "I understand you wish to inspire me, Corri, but Pengion is also mother's son. He has well over a foot of height and at least a hundred pounds against me. This entire discussion is downright senseless to begin with."

And that was that. Corriana watched as Faine retreated, her feet stamping through the ankle-deep volume of water that currently rested in the ship, no doubt heading for whatever liquor she could find. On top of stress, the huntress was beginning to wonder her sister had an addiction.

Letting out a quieter sigh of her own, she began to articulate a strategy. Had her sister not interrupted her, she would have been done by now. As she thought up calculations, she was beginning to think it sounded better to be the intellect than the sword. Sure, Faine would be conceitedly proud to say she defeated Garrosh by blade, but the huntress thought that being able to say she was the one to have essentially formulated the plans leading up to the conquest seemed even better. It made her feel like she was significant, perhaps even more so than being there, holding a bow.

The most important pawns in their game of royal chess would be acquired, dependable fences. There needed to be someone between them and Hellscream, someone who could fling off their trace, even just long enough for them to get out alive if anything were to go wrong. The huntress had already accumulated a mental list of candidates, ranging from nolifes like Gamon to the nearly untouchables, such as Vol'jin.

Every name on her list were people she truly suspected to be unhappy with the warchief, unhappy enough to side with the elven sisters when the time came to act. Their new occupations would be not only the seamless cover for their intentions, but the best position to recruit. In a second she could have a person's life written down in front of her on a scroll, cataloging every aspect of their life and every known alliance they have. She could then gather a rough list of who to speak to and who to never even dare look at in fear they'd suspect disloyalty.

Her mind then went to the person they were crossing a sea to speak to. Pengion would need to be eradicated as soon as probable. Either he needed to be offed, permanently, or he needed to be removed long enough that he could not obstruct their plans. All he was worthwhile for at the present moment was a cover. Although she didn't want to have to pull him into this and risk having him spill a few covert details to Garrosh's ears, he was now crucial if they wanted to even gain a smidge of the orc's confidence.

Faine had lied and said they had connections, and so they had to now make some whether they liked them or not. As soon as they had what they required, Corriana was determined on getting rid of him, for good. Perhaps if her sister were to gain what she wanted the most, the position of head Sunfeather, she would abandon the momentary comfort of alcohol, carnage, and her overall fury.

* * *

><p>After what seemed like a millennium, the vessel was docked just off the western coast of the island, in the Sunsail Anchorage. Silvermoon City was quite a distance away from their present whereabouts at the port, but Faine succeeded in pulling a few threads and request to have a dragonhawk at the port before nightfall, which would have them just outside of the city by dawn. Corriana couldn't tell if her sister used enticement or intimidation, but either way, she was just eager to have a few hours of relaxation and a lot less walking to do.<p>

Sitting down on a crate, the freckled elf had to duel sleep away by blinking frantically. Her activities seemed to distress her sister, who was still a little plastered from the binge she had on the expedition over.

"Are you crying?" She had asked, her voice fluctuating in the way it did every time she had a few more to drink than she should have. "No, I'm trying not to fall asleep."

Her sister laughed then, apparently finding that announcement entirely comical. Rolling her eyes, Corriana realized she was going to have to play the mature sister card for a while, to which she groaned internally.

"You need to sober up, immediately. In a few hours we need to be sitting on a dragonhawk, and there's no way I'm flying for seven hours with you if you're drunk. Not the mention the second we get to Silvermoon, we're going to be escorted straight to Pengion." At the sound of his name, Faine sat up straight.

"You are undeniably correct." The transformation was instantaneous and somewhat aweing. "I believed getting a little hammered would make this easier, but I seem to have overlooked that our little serpent of a brother would use my altered state of mind to his advantage. Yes, we should sleep while we can. I am in no attitude to be jailed and executed for unintended homicide."

The warrior was out the instant the last word left her lips. Having nothing better to do, the other sister followed suite, using the splintered crate as a mattress and her sister's lap as a pillow.

* * *

><p>Roused by the noises of flapping wings and piercing squawks, Corriana whined as her impromptu pillow was torn away. Her neck ached, and her back felt just as bad. She cracked an eye open to observe the disorder. It look as if to be late into the night, from what she could tell.<p>

Faine was up and evidently speaking with the dragonhawk handler, which explained why the object she had been resting her head on had moved so suddenly. Her sister seemed to reveal inhuman reflexes when she drank, which she found rather odd considering alcohol had the contradictory effect on most other beings.

Not willing herself to move just yet, she dropped her head back down onto the other crate and closed her eyes once more. As if the second she drifted off pulled some sort of alarm, her sister was there, shouting her back to reality.

"Focus," she mouthed before returning back to the man who seemed to be trying in vain to hold the great, winged creature down to the floor. Considerably muddled at why the warrior had told her to focus, she slowly sat up.

As if on cue, a uncoordinated figure caught her eye. From the looks of it, it was one of the Wretched, a assemblage of elves who had taken their fel addiction one step too far.

Grabbing her bow and an arrow off of the ground, she notched it back and let go, managing to embed the arrow in the being's left eye socket. She sat back down, rather stunned. Not only was that imaginably her best shot to date, but she had scarcely even thought about it before acting. She had seemed to have drawn her sister's attention then, because Faine smiled.

"Nice shot," she shouted, giving a thumbs up.

She never would have thought that she would have to make a kill so soon. The sensation of illness abruptly hurried over her, and she promptly threw up. Faine was there in an instant, shushing her as she began to sob.

"That does not even count as taking a life. You did that man a favour, putting him out of his misery." The words didn't do much besides make her cry harder as she realized she had truly killed another person.

After a few more moments, the warrior seemed to have given up. Corriana was told to pack her things and be ready in ten minutes. She just nodded. Her crying had stopped somewhere near the end of her deadline, so she packed her bow away with trembling hands and put her arrows back into a quiver. Having nothing else to do, she walked back to Faine and shrugged.

"Good, we're set to go then."

She numbly shambled onto the back of the thrashing creature, sitting behind her sister as she held on for dear life, her mind for once completely blank.

* * *

><p>The second their feet touched solid ground, both sisters were on their hands and knees, vomiting into the long grass. The dragonhawks flew in arches, making any ride intolerable. A seven hour one with zero stops was perhaps worse than torture.<p>

"Oh my gods," Faine choked before another bout of bile made its way out of her, "I thought I was going to die."

Corriana nodded frailly, her brain and stomach reeling in unison. She thought she was going to faint.

The elves had just a few minutes to collect themselves before they would be sent to their brother. The walk to the city's front gates was all the time they had left. "Stay calm, and stay as silent as you can," her sister told her.

She earned a scoff. "I'd suggest the same to you," the huntress mumbled loud enough for Faine to hear her. Bracing themselves one last time, they walked the few steps up to the colossal gates.

They were let in with relative ease, and before long they were essentially detained by their brother's servants. He seemed to have sent the largest men he could find. Although the huntress was scared shitless, the warrior walking beside her on the left seemed unfazed by the three men.

"You three are the best men Pengion had to spare? I feel reasonably hurt by his leniency. I anticipated a small army for my appearance." As foreseen, the older sister acquired no reaction.

After a soundless twenty-odd minute walk, the fivesome had arrived at the building that had not appeared to change much since Corriana's last visit. The looming structure, ornamented in their House's colours of crimson, gold, and black, did not feel warm.

"Welcome home, or shall I say, hell?" Faine snickered before the two were let into the house.

"I now feel even more wounded that I require authorization to be let into my own home," the warrior yelled. Her timing was immaculate; Pengion's figure had just begun descending the stairs.

Straightaway, Corriana's blood drained and every strand of her being told her to run away as the plated feet led up to legs, then a gigantic torso, then finally, a face she hadn't seen in years.

Immense for a blood elf, Pengion the Bloodied stood six feet and five inches tall, and had to weigh at least two hundred and fifty pounds, even without his armour. The elf was massive, and tremendously intimidating. His dirty blond hair was combed into an sophisticated ponytail, a few strands escaping their bonds to lay across his tanned and mangled face.

Not many could justly say he was still good-looking, even with his faint Sunfeather freckles and silken hair. Not even his invaluable obsidian armour could make him look any more frightening than his face already did. He wasn't even near them, but yet Corriana could feel the deep growl that left his throat, finally, after Faine had spoken.

"Fainestra, Corriana. What a pleasure to see my ever-lovely sisters." The only thing the huntress could ponder was how his voice could cut diamond. "Mother has been expecting you for hours. It is quite a shame you're late."

He was finally there, right in front of her. The youngest Sunfeather child had to crane her neck up just to look at him. She felt so out of place and even more insufficient whenever she was near him. Beside her, Faine virtually prickled.

"That _is_ a shame. We would have been sooner, had your little friends here not stopped us for an hour to question us. Can you believe the auburn-haired one asked me what my name was? As if he had no idea who I am…" the warrior had stopped when the frantic footsteps of their mother resonated down the marble hallway.

"My beautiful doves!" Ardis Sunfeather, nee Bloodsky, had one way or another, succeeded in shoving Pengion clear out of her way in order to reach her daughters. "How I missed you so, particularly you, you little devil! You thought you could move across Azeroth and never see me again, did you now?" With that, her cheeks were gripped so hard, tears sprung from her eyes.

"Mom-" Corriana tried to worm her way out of her mother's grip, but it was hopeless. The woman had both height and strength to her advantage, and oh, did she use them.

"My baby, you cannot begin to know how my heart raced when Pengi told me you would finally be coming home," their mother cooed before lastly removing her fingers from her youngest child's face. In an instant, the huntress was now struggling to breathe through her mother's hair as she was forced into a death grip of a hug.

"I missed you as well, mother," Faine mumbled sarcastically from somewhere behind her.

Pengion cleared his throat then, but Ardis' embrace endured. Whether he acknowledged it or not, his rule was still under that of his mother's. After a few more seconds, the mother elf had finally untangled herself from her daughter. She then made a move for Faine, but the warrior managed to sidestep the incoming cheek pinching and instead dove into a deep hug.

"We are not staying for long, I'm afraid," the elder daughter murmured through the golden locks. Their mother scoffed.

"You two are prohibited from speaking about any sort of business in my house until you are both cleaned and fed, understood?" Corriana groaned, wanting to have been able to get everything over with as soon as probable. She was still standing uncomfortably by Pengion as her mother and sister continued to hug and whisper to each other.

"You look well," came the phrase that nearly gave her a heart attack. Just shrugging, she went for the honesty card.

"You sure as hell don't. Did you get uglier or am I just in shock after not having to see your face for so long?"

Expecting a thrashing, Corriana was more shocked to see her customarily stoic brother crack a grin. "Ouch."

Taking that as a good sign, she stopped herself before she was able to sigh in relief. So far, her sister and she were still in one piece, and if the day progressed as efficiently as this preliminary meeting had, they had nothing to worry about… on this side of Azeroth, at least.


End file.
